No Alternatives
by Alatariel Sirfalas
Summary: A Night Elf DK realized that being a Death Knight doesn't make her what she is but who she is. Along with the most unlikeliest companies she sets off to try topple the Lich King in order to free those Death Knights who had always wanted to be freed.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

Let him who has strength and a brave heart come forth and challenge me. For I fear no one.

If he defeats me, let the world be free from my eternally cold, dark rule. For, as I feel, that the world deserves better than this.

If the hero ceased to live, I believe I was meant to be the Ruler of Azeroth, no less, no more. So let him come forth!

**Chapter 1**

Thalian-uiel, Death Knight, servant-knight of Arthas Menethil, stood at one of the outer corridors conjoining the large Icecrown Citadel. Tonight was her turn to guard the eastern wing of the citadel, and she didn't love it. Her cloak provides some warmth and strength to her body but the familiar icy cold wind bites through. Her plate armour wasn't helping much either. Every Death Knights' plate armour seems to give off chill to anyone who was not a servant of Arthas, the successor of the last Lich King, Ner'zhul.

Her companion has not arrived for the night's duty, and she was hoping that he would come soon for she does not like doing her duty alone. She rarely does night guard duties but it seems that her companion's companion was on an errand sent by the Lich King. She wondered when was the last time the Lich King wanted her on any errand, official or not.

Not far off she could see the silhouette of an armoured person approaching her. Her hand reached for Voldrethar, her sword. People called it the Dark Blade of Oblivion for it brought much terror and destruction to many during the last epic war. Her father, Nareth, a servant and right hand man of Ner'zhul wielded it during his time. When he died in battle he left the sword to her since that he has no other child. Thalian-uiel never wanted to serve the Lich King. Much less be near the heartless bastard who resides in the cold, cheerless palace. But she has no other choice. Her mother left her father once she learnt of his allegiance to Ner'zhul. Her father, aggrieved and angered had her hounded to her death by his legion of undead army called from the wild depths of the village grave.

Turning her attention back to the present she eyed the approaching newcomer critically. In a place like this every individual were advised to take personal precautions for anything could happen. Especially when doing guard duties at night. She took a burning torch hanging from one of the dark-greenish platforms near her and put it ahead of her, hoping to see a glimpse of the newcomer.

As the newcomer stepped into her ring of light it pulled off its hood revealing the smooth, sleepy face. It was her companion for the night, Sanera, and she gave a sigh of relief. She thought it was some intruder or unwanted company.

"What is it, Elf? Scared that I'll assault you?" he mocked with a sharp leer dancing across his eyes. She would have had gave him a good punch in the face to make it cave in. She _knew_ she was a lot stronger than him since that she had a great deal of training under her father. Swordsmanship, archery, how to fight using axes, the laws of hunting when going on a journey – everything her father knew when he was alive he taught her.

But making Sanera's face cave in would not make things any better, so she let the matter drop. "Come, Sanera. Let's start tonight's duty, shall we?" she said, her voice cool and calm.

Sanera laughed a little. "Yes, Thalian-uiel. As you wish!" he said, dramatically bowing to her majestically. To his biggest mistake, this had pushed Thalian-uiel beyond her maximum annoyance level that she gave him a hard kick in his family jewel and a heavy punch in his face, leaving him with a bloodied broken nose.

"If you want more, just ask. I can always generously give away a good fight like this," Thalian-uiel said with an even greater mockery that none could top, save for her dead father. "Let's go!"

Sanera stumbled after her, clutching his bloodied nose and breathing heavily. "Could you please at least do something to ease the pain of my nose?" the human Death Knight begged pathetically, his eyes almost tearing. A wimp, a sissy who has made his way into Arthas's service without anyone noticing. For once, Thalian-uiel felt sorry for trashing Sanera, so gave him the proper healings he needed for his broken nose.

"I'm sorry, Sanera," she apologized. "Just don't do that again."

He only nodded, looking into the Night Elf's cold, misty eyes under her Sanctified Scourgelord Helmet – a classic type of eyes Nigh Elves were born with. It was once amber coloured, but since that she was under Arthas's rule and was being made into a Death Knight her eye colour changes significantly. As do most other elves who were transformed into Death Knights.

He felt a sense of guilty in him. Elves – especially Night Elves – never took pride in such places as Icecrown. Just as long it inflicts pain to anyone the Elves would go into perpetual sadness and grievances. Thalian-uiel, as he had heard, was forced into being a Death Knight because Arthas saw not just great fighting skills and comradeship but also saw a strong burning will set within her heart.

Standing up, he extended an arm towards her.

She accepted it without grudge. That, at least, he was grateful for.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. _As well_.

She only nodded.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The night passed by painfully slow and wickedly cold for Thalian-uiel. The semi-raging blizzard and the heavy snow that blanketed the ground were mercilessly biting into her warm cloak. She pulled her cloak closer to her body, making her looked like a life-sized bread-loaf. In this cold night weather she doubt that anyone would dare come on an assault on the Lich King's ice palace. Blizzards were common here in the Icecrown area and there weren't much sunlight. So during daytime the sun hardly penetrates the thick, gloomy clouds and only casting a grey-greenish dull glow on the snow, which was most probably covered with slime, pale-greenish blood and covered malicious rotting bones. Desecrated clothes and, sometimes, half-preserved bodies could be seen if anyone bothered to uncover them. But they were mostly left uncovered – left to their cold, frosty graves.

She shifted and bundled herself deeper into her half-worn cloak further hoping to get more warmth from it but to no use. She still felt cold and regretted bringing a better, thicker cloak with her. Arthas would not mind for he hardly bothered her personal clothes. After all, she has no fancier clothes in her wardrobe. Everyone has their own cloaks personally made from the palace tailors and owned very few of their previous life's clothes. She looked over in Sanera's direction and saw that he fared no better than she.

He was already very pale and clutched and pulled at his own cloak. His lips were so blue! _Gods above!_, she thought to herself. _What pathetic sight of a Lich King's soldier in a worn cloak!_

She looked at the torch that was in her hand. It was dimmer than before and the flames were burning to an all time low. The blue flames flickered a few times and went out. The blue fires in the braziers and the torches on the sconces had long gone out. It was a miracle that their torch lasted a while longer than the others.

_Bad luck_, Thalian-uiel thought. That was the last light they had between them. Arthas made sure that the servants only had one torch between a pair during night guards, no more, no less. Sanera looked up from his cloak at her, his eyes glowing lightly in the dark. His breathings became heavier and death runes reeked from his mouth. It was a common thing from a Death Knight. But Sanera's was stronger; she could feel it from a few steps away. When a Death Knight reeks of strong dying runes it meant that he/she was about to die.

_He must be near death_, Thalian-uiel thought and inside her she began to panic. Then she heard a thud on the metal-made corridor and a few forced coughs. The first thing she did was to flung herself at Sanera and pulled him close to her. They had nearly reached the end of the corridor of the east wing, which leads to two huge locked chambers. They weren't far, Thalian-uiel thought; and she knew.

Pushing Sanera up a little she said in a voice barely audible than a whisper, "The gates are just ahead, Sanera. If we make it there maybe we have more protection against the cold and the raging blizzard."

She half-dragged, half-supported Sanera towards the gates and set him against it. It was still cold, but at least the blizzard's vicious wind could not reach them.

Then she fished out a chunk of bread and some wine from her pouch and feed some to Sanera slowly. She watched him eat through the heavy darkness hanging around them, slowly chewing, slowly drinking the wine with some help from Thalian-uiel of course. The blue-black colour on his lips lightened a little, Thalian-uiel could see, but not enough to indicate that he was strong enough not to rely on her.

She felt pity for him every now and then, and wondered at how he actually gets past the training scourgelords' strict scrutiny for fresh talents every few months. After he had eaten she pulled him closer to her, although with much unease. She had never pulled anyone so close to her physically before, not since when she was eleven years old. His chattering slowed a little and through it he chattered, "Thank you, Thalian-uiel."

"No sweat Sanera. Call me Thalian, it is what everyone calls me," she replied.

He nodded and slowly drifted off to sleep...while Thalian-uiel stayed up to watch.

It was not the first time she felt angry at herself and at everyone and everything else around her. And it was not the first time she wished she knew someone else here in Icecrown was strong enough to stand up against the Lich King – sitting upon his fat throne eating, enjoying the warmth around him while his servants stayed outside on cold duty. Every bone and muscles in her seethed with anger and discontentment and, not for the last time, did she wish that she knew someone who could assist her in overthrowing the bastard.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The bright sun overhead smiled down on the majestic city of Silvermoon, giving the city of Blood Elves an aura of cheeriness and broad pride. The inhabitants went about their daily chores, each not quite bothered with others' presence. An occasional nod or smile anyone would get if the elves were up for some niceties. Blood Elves were the Night Elves' cousins genetically, the only difference was that Blood Elves had blood red eyes and mostly had blond or light brown hair. They were lighter in skin colour as well.

Qethara, a young Blood Elf who was registered and scripted into Lady Sylvanas's service not two years back, slowly made his way through the square for the Auction House. He has some credits to collect before meeting a friend at the Silvermoon City Inn's for a drink. After all, he was not on duty that day.

Quickly collecting his credit from one of the auctioneers he, again, pushed his was through the crowd. It was a hot day with people buzzing slowly in the market-square. Unfortunately the Inn was at the other end of the trade square, meaning that he would have to lowly push his way through, looking out for people's clumsily mis-footed feet. He would occasionally bump into people here and there if he wasn't paying close enough carefully.

Once he made it to the other end of the square he pulled himself out and smoothen his elegantly made red and silver robes. A gift from his dear mother.

He entered the Inn and noticed that his companion, Rekhan-ui, had not arrived, so chose a table by a window and sat down. There weren't much people at the Inn that day, which was good. Qethara hated crowded places. There was an elder Blood Elf sitting at the other side of the room, sipping his drink and reading something from an old parchment. Two tables away from the elderly Blood Elf were three other Blood Elves, younger, their heads stooped low to themselves deep in conversation.

Qethara, unfortunately whose ears were keener than his fellow Blood Elves, managed to pick up their conversation and thus listened carefully to what they have to offer.

..._You didn't hear the news-man carefully. The vile bastard isn't coming any way! _The first pointed out.

..._He IS! I know what I heard. Plus, HOW do you explain the blizzard coming from Icecrown that the officials in Dalaran saw? And Thrall of Ogrimmar said he spotted mass migration of crows passing through HIS city! What can you say?_ Said the second.

..._You trusted the Orcs? Never trust what an Orc said. What he said might be lies_ said the third.

..._Yer, you have to be careful of your resources, my friend. Never trust strangers, do I need to remind you that?_ Said the first again.

The second Blood Elf fell silent for a moment and muttered, _I know what I heard, and I KNOW what I've heard wasn't lies! There was just about more than sufficient convincing truth I saw on the man's face. Why ELSE would he make it such a big deal anyway?_

..._You just don't understand, my friend. Some people just want attention to themselves. I suggest you be careful_, the first said and there was no more.

_Hmm_, Qethara listened with amusement. That was, indeed, news to him.

Then someone appeared out of nowhere beside him and placed a hand on his shoulders. "Qethara."

He looked up and saw his friend who had just arrived. "Bal'a dash, Rakhan-ui!" he greeted him, relieved. He thought his friend would never show up.

"Bal'a dash, Qethara. Pardon me for coming so late. The trade square was crowded," Rakhan-ui apologized, his lips hinting a light of smile.

Qethara shook his head. _It's all right_, he thought and sat down. The bartender brought them their usual of beer and mead. Rakhan-ui took a long sip from his mead before setting it down with a complacent sigh. "Have you heard what was going on in Icecrown?" he asked.

Qethara nearly sputtered his beer out and covered his face with a napkin on the table. He eyed the three elves sitting at the other end of the room. None of them seemed to pay attention to them both. "Just heard it not long ago. Where did you hear the news from, Rakhan?" he asked.

"Thrall sent a message to Lady Sylvannas yesterday. I happened to be on duty in her Official Royal Chambers and I heard everything!" Rakhan-ui said everything in a rush.

Qethara was momentarily lost for words and looked down at his beer. So it _was_ true! His mind turned towards the thoughts of those who were forced into being servants of Arthas Menethil, and those who wanted to escape his rule and wanted to return to their "normal" lives. For that one time did he felt bad for any servants of the new Lich King. He shook his head sadly one more time before setting his beer mug down.

"What are you thinking? Are you feeling pity for those who reside in Icecrown?" Rakhan-ui prodded him. Qethara's eyes widened as he stared at him. Rakhan-ui seemed to be able to see every thought that was in his mind, how he does it still bothers him. Maybe, he thought, his facial expression gives off what was on his face easily. He nodded.

"Why?" Rakhan-ui half-mocked half-seriously said, "Why do you _even_ pity them? Whoever is associated with the Lich King should not be pitied, much less given some basic respect! I just don't understand you, Qethara. What are you thinking?"

Qethara drained his beer down and pulled out a couple of silver coins. "Rakhan," he said sternly. "Not every servant of the Lich King is a nuisance!" He paid the bartender and made for the door.

"Stop, Qethara!" he heard Rakhan-ui called. He stopped not far from the door of the inn. "I can't believe you actually pitied some of the Lich King's servant!"

Turning around to face him, he said calmly, "Rakhan, stop. It's not what you think...you just don't understand. Some of his servants were sworn into his service by force against their will. So I don't see any wrong in showing pity for some of them."

He quickly exited the Inn before Rakhan-ui could say anything. If he could do just about anything for freeing the suffering souls working under Arthas Menethil he would. But, for the time being, he was just one man – no more, no less.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The blizzard had subsided by half a fraction in the morning, making it easier for the in habitants of Icecrown to move around. Almost automatically the fire on the braziers slowly came to life, the blue fire dancing and sneering in them.

Thalian looked at her torch that was consumed by the strong blizzard last night. Leaning Sanera gently against the strong gates she made for the nearest brazier and lit her torch. Just then, a loud gong resounded across the palace, loud against the blizzard that was slowly dying down. _A morning meet_, Thalian thought amusingly and turned to look at Sanera. They haven't had a meet with the Lich King for ages around.

He was woken by the gong and looked at her sleepily and weakly. Another gong sounded, this time, louder. Thalian helped Sanera to his feet before picking up their belongings. "Feeling better?" she asked.

"Yes," he said softly and both walked slowly to meet the Lich King in his halls.

Much of the Lich King's servants had gathered in the Lich King's halls. It was a dark, gloomy place with little windows. Brazier stood by the sides and a not-so-sophisticated dull blue chandelier hung from above giving off a soft glow. There weren't any chairs or stools so everyone would have to stand. Furthermore, the Lich King would prefer everyone to stand when he was around. Such was expected from nearly every king.

Thalian felt even more pity for Sanera, who was weak and cold standing by her side a back corner in the hall. That, at least, would not attract too much attention from the other servants of the Lich King. Even standing next to him she could feel him trembling and whimpering. She peeked at him from the corner of her eyes and saw that his lips was still blue and has not yet gone back to his original colour. She bit her lips and crossed her fingers hoping for the better.

Arthas Menethil arrived shortly after, taking his place on the small stage of the huge gargantuan hall. Beyond the small stage was another even bigger hall where the Lich King resides: The Hall of Reflections. Both adjoined halls were better lit to the Lich King's liking and better guarded with his best Death Knights. Thalian-uiel was selected as one of his best Death Knights as well but of late he has nothing to ask of her, something which she was glad for. After all, the Lich King can be unforgiving for the least important or minor misdoings. Not that she was clumsy but every Lich Kings that were ever alive were tough to please.

The Lich King, with his helm held by his side, scrutinized the Death Knights at one side and some of his servants on the other side. He let his inspection slip over Thalian-uiel, Sanera and a few others. Instructor Razuvious and Kal'Thuzad stood to his left while another two muscular Death Knights stood to his right. The ones to the left had sword even mightier oath to Arthas, making sure that they never break free of the Lich King's allegiance. Death Knights were sworn into oath as well, especially those who were his personal guards and legions. Others sworn lesser oaths, but their souls were sucked out and were enslaved in Frostmourne – Arthas Menethil's sword, thus helping him gain more skills and vaster knowledge of each souls he sucked.

Thalian-uiel and Sanera's souls had not been sucked, so for the time being they could avoid the uncomfortable, painful thoughts they may have to share with the Lich King. They were, being the favourites of the Lich King, granted their own souls but would be taken away from them if they conspired against him.

"Shall we start now, milord?" Instructor Razuvious asked, his voice rambled deeply and death runes reeked from his breath. Thalian-uiel, head bowed, peeked at him from the corner of her eyes between knight gaps. The tall blonde in icy blue armour looked up at the Lich King on his small stage in awe. How she _hated_ him!

She could feel the venom on the tip of her tongue. Such brash, presumptuous man! What pride that was stuck onto his arrogant, emotionless face! Such heartless asshole! She looked away from the second vilest bastard of the palace. He was one of those people who worked with Arthas Menethil in murdering his father. Yes, her father may have been a good man who turned evil. But there was some good in him! She felt the tears brimming on the edge of her eyes and quickly blink them away and concentrate.

"Yes, Razuvious," his deathly voice coughed into being. "We shall start now."

Death runes reeked in the air from so many Death Knights and Lich Servants in the room; Thalian could smell and feel it. It was so heavy that she could choke to death from it. It was cold too; this place will perpetually be cold and see no sunlight. She missed the sunlight so much, and the glorious moon. Icecrown has none of those.

"We had made a new type of weapon last night, hence the blizzard," Arthas said icily, breathily. Grabbing something from his pouch that hung from his waist he pulled out a small, blue-coloured orb hovering on his palm. _Icescale Armour_.

Thalian _knew_ about this from the start that they were going to take advantage of the cold surrounding around them into further use. She also knew of this Icescale Armour for quite a while now. She overheard Professor Putricide mentioned it once to Arthas, Razuvious and Kal'Thuzad. So _this_ was what Arthas was anticipating about all along!

"Allow me to demonstrate how all of you are going to use this in the near future. Listen well my best knights!" he said. He scrunched the small orb onto his palm easily, grinding it with his plated glove. It seemed weak. Smiling surreptitiously he smeared some onto his other hand, making sure that every joint on the fingers and palm get some. "Now who wants to come forth as a volunteer of how we are going to use this?" he asked. He seemed to have fun mocking and killing his servants.

Someone from the front was shoved before the Lich King and kicked on to his knees. It was a Lich Servant – a skinless and fleshless servant. A servant of the Scourgelord. "No, I don't want a servant of the Scourgelord. I want one with flesh!"

Razuvious's eyes fell on Sanera, Thalian could see, and was making towards them in his bold strode. "We've got one, my lord!" Razuvious smiled. Spreading his hands out as if to embrace someone, he said loudly so everyone in the room could hear: "Sanera, thank you for volunteering yourself. We are _most_ honoured, and we shall forever remember you!"

_No!_ Thalian's heart urged and pounded on her chest hard. She was sure that Razuvious meant it as a joke; they could not kill Sanera just because he looked weak! Sanera looked up at Razuvious's face. "Yes, my lord?" he whimpered.

"You shall be remembered, my friend," Razuvious said, still playing along. _How she hated that liar!_ Watching Instructor Razuvious pulling Sanera way from her side she watched them strode down the aisle towards Arthas Menethil, who was waiting, smiling with pride on the small stage.

When they reached the stage they took off his helmet, shoulder pads and gloves. "This is how you all will be using it, so listen carefully!" Arthas said.

Placing his gloved hand on one of Sanera's shoulders he swiped his hand quickly down the length of his arms. His scream was blood-curdling and piteously weak. The pain must have hurt evilly so that might explain his scream. She stared at his arm. At first there was nothing, and then slowly she could see the red lines beginning to form, like claw mark. Blood slowly beaded the scratch and flowed down his arm dripping onto the floor. He sank to the floor, breathing heavily. _No, please...just no_, Thalian pleaded in her heart; but she knew it wasn't going to change anything ever.

Arthas took more of those Icescale Armour from his pouch and rubbed it vigorously on his gloves. He did the same to Sanera's other arm, this time the blood spilled like a running river down his other arm. Sanera's face crumpled into a pallid look. "To kill your opponent more easily, this is what you should do," Arthas said, the smile was still on his face, arrogant as ever. He grabbed Sanera by his throat and lifted him high. Sanera whimpered a little before flailing pathetically like a fish out of water. "Please, have some mercy on me!" he pleaded, his voice weakening. But everyone in the room knew the Lich King would never let anyone go especially when he was demonstrating his newly made experiment.

He squeezed Sanera's throat tighter and threw him down onto the ground. Blood pooled crazily on his throat. It was a grizzly sight and yet everyone in the room seemed unbothered by it. How callous!

"I shall distribute them only to my personal guards first before distributing them to the rest. You may go!" Arthas said, the meeting being concluded by the looks of it. He went back to his Halls of Reflections with Razuvious and Kal'Thuzad following close behind. The others filed out of the hall, murmuring to each other about the new weapon. Thalian-uiel stood alone at the same place behind the wall, not believing what she had seen. When the last had gone out she dropped her heavy pouch and rushed towards Sanera's body. His eyes stared into nothing, his hands grasping for a hope that never came to him, and yet he flailed and fought for it pathetically.

She fought back tears of anger and frustration. She wanted to rush into the Halls of Reflections and kill everyone in there on a mad rampage, inflicting pain on everyone in her way. But she knew she could not do it without outside help.

Then she caught a solid glimmer of light on the puddle of blood pooled on Sanera's throat. His family necklace given to him, she had seen it before! She took it from his throat and placed it on her palm, studying it. It was a simple necklace of simple design. Nothing too complicated but yet beautiful. She quickly cleaned the blood from the pendant and saw a simple white pearl delicately placed in a round silvery wire-work.

"Thalian-uiel," someone called her name softly. She looked up expecting to see any one of the Scourge servants or knights there. But there weren't any. Instead she stared into the face of Sanera's spirit face. His soul. What was it doing wandering around here?

"Sanera...?" she started. He smiled in approval.

"Yes," he said, his voice tingling like a soft bell.

Thalian was surprised beyond words and forced herself to say something. "How're you feeling, Sanera? I'm sorry I didn't come to help, I should have come...," she said in a rush.

"No, Thalian. No. I'm all right, I just need you to help me do something," he said. Thalian looked at him expectantly, pressingly. "But I have to be quick before Arthas or his companions come out so you better listen carefully.

"That necklace you have in your hand, take it to my mother, Heraphes, living in Stormwind. She lives in the Trade Square section of the city in the Inn and it shouldn't be hard for you to find. As for my sword," Thalian looked down at the sword that lay askance by Sanera's waist, "take it to Qethara, for it belongs to him. If he asked for me, tell him I have gone and could not return anymore. He resides in Silvermoon."

_Silvermoon_... That city name echoed within the confines of her mind heavily like a huge bell sounding. It is where the Blood Elves lived. Blood Elves and Night Elves had a long racial feud that was over centuries old. If she enters that city she might get killed. She was overshadowed with doubt and some fear, thinking how she should complete the latter task. Going to Stormwind was easy for it was an important political place where important political Alliance leaders meet. But going to Silvermoon was hard.

Sanera saw the doubt on her face. "It's all right, Thalian. I'll see to your safety. Now," his voice was tighter now. "Please give me the proper death rites to send my soul back to the gods above. If not, say a prayer in your language so Arthas would not capture my soul for him own advantage. Please!"

Thalian slung the necklace over her head and took Sanera's dead hands in hers. She said a prayer over his dead body and his soul in Darnassae and made sure his body had the right death marks needed.

By the she was done. Sanera thanked her and stood up. "Now go, Thalian. Go before he or the others come. Leave tomorrow morning of you could. I'll see you in the world beyond if you were killed. May Elune watch over you!" and he was gone.

"_Elune-Adore_ (Elune be with you)," she whispered. She picked up the sword and her belongings. Taking a look at Sanera's little belongings laying on the floor, she hesitated whether if she should bring it with her or not. A final decision made her take them along so she could return them to his mother as well.

As for now, she would need to see what she could do before sneaking out to her escape.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Qethara set to his work early that morning. His mind wondered over those people who had been captured or forced into serving the Lich King. He thought of how Arthas, like his Lich predecessors, consumed the souls of the best knights serving him and imprisoned them in Frostmourne. They would share the pain, the hatred and every other emotions and physical pain that Arthas would feel. In turn, Arthas would know of their sorrow, of what they think, whether if they are conspiring against him or not. Every inch of knowledge both held within their minds, both parties would know. It would be very inconvenient.

He walked down the nearly empty street of Farstrider Square, just north of The Royal Exchange. Not many people come to this part of the city, most stayed at the bazaar doing their daily business of buying and selling, if not, just sit around in the City Inn drinking and brooding over their mistakes committed in their lives previously. What sad people.

He sat down on a bench for a rest, looking around at the fine architecture of the city that was left undistorted after the Third War. He loved his city, he loved his people, and best of all he loved his righteous leader Prince Kael'thas. He thought he was happy that he was born into a fine city with rich cultures.

Then a merchant strode into the street that he and a few others were in. The news merchant. "Your daily Silver Blooded News, one for one piece of silver. Limited stocks left. Come one, come all!" he called out his sales. Qethara quickly walked up to him and handed him a piece of silver. In return he got one copy of the Silver Blooded News.

On the very front-page he could see the title in large print: ICECROWN EXPERIENCED LIVID BLIZZARD. Below it was another sub-title: THE BIGGEST ICECROWN HAD EVER EXPERIENCED IN THE LAST 30 YEARS OR SO.

Qethara paused as he let it sink in. So the news he heard _was indeed true_! He read on, leaving his guard duties to one side for the moment:

'_The entire area of Icecrown experienced a harsh blizzard a fortnight ago. It was said that it was the harshest in 30 years since the very first Lich King came into existence then. It was seen first when the sun was just beginning to set in Dalaran by Archmage Rhonin and the Kirin Tor Faction._

'_Both the Archmage and the independent Faction believed that Arthas Menethil and his followers was up to something evil once more. Alliance Factions and Horde Factions were advised to take safety precautions especially when travelling across the Icecrown area. It was also advisable that travellers were not to come anywhere near the icy, death-like place._

'_If travelling to Storm Peaks was necessary, travellers were asked to travel around Icecrown through the easternmost edge of the Crystalsong Forest or through Zul'Drak where threats are less expectant. Travellers were also asked to travel in larger groups consisting of skilled fighters._

'_One last advice from Archmage Rhonin and the Kirin Tor Faction: please do not associate with any of the servants or any people who had any relations with the beings of Icecrown. It was for every individual's own personal safety and wellbeing._

'_Any more news concerning Icecrown the Dalaran News Central would let the public know as soon as possible. Any further inquiries just contact us through the Dalaran Orb._

'_Dalaran Scribes.'_

Hmm, Qethara thought inwardly. It was then he remembered an old friend who was captured by the Scourges of Icecrown. For one moment he couldn't remember the name. He thought very hard to try to remember the name. After awhile he remembered...and smiled a little for his effort. Sanera the human paladin from Stormwind. He remembered giving him one of his best swords to him as a token of friendship.

They were good friends. He met him first when he was on his way to Stormwind to deliver a package to King Varian Wrynn many years back. Some humans who saw him sneered at him and gave him a hard time. He was unable to pass until Sanera came along; breaking up the throng and personally led him to King Varian. He stayed with him most of the time, never letting him out of his sight. He had let him stayed in his mother's house for a few nights before sending him away back to Silvermoon safely. In return, he gave him one of his favourite and most prized swords.

It wasn't until a few years later he heard news of Sanera. He heard that he was amongst one of the travellers captured by the Lich King's servants and was dragged to Icecrown. From there onwards he heard nothing else of Sanera. No one knew what exactly happened to him. Some claimed that his soul was sucked into Frostmourne. Some said he was killed along the way.

But Qethara knew better. Every individual that was captured by the servants of the Lich King, strong or weak, were made into the Lich King's servant. Be it a Death Knight, a Lich soldier or just a plain servant of Arthas, they all became servants of Icecrown. The escape routes were closely guarded by his servants, forever patrolling day and night. Patrollers were changed every 12 hours or so and they do not eat much.

There was one escape route in Icecrown that not much people knew of, or even bothered about. Qethara knew about it through his friend Rakhan-ui, who in turn, learnt it from some stranger. It was an unforgiving escape route, seldom travelled. To escape through it, one must experience a series of cuts, bruises and psychotic shock, which most could not survive. If you did survive, you would not be able to stay sane and many would rather die than to live after that.

He sighed painfully and folded the paper neatly, tucking it under his arm.

The afternoon bell sounded not far off, and echoed over the city. It was time for the afternoon meal and for a change in patrolling guards. Picking up his things, he slowly made his way back to the Royal Exchange. For the time being he could not do much to help Sanera. Learning more news of his old friend was what he needed now. As for getting him out from Icecrown, that was another matter.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Thalian-uiel opened her sleepy eyes when the afternoon bell tolled from the lunch room. _Lunch time_, she thought, and she doesn't feel hungry. But she still has to eat, somehow. She pushed herself up from her bed, meagrely padded and bedspread thinly. How she slept through these last one to 1 ½ years she doesn't know. It was a miracle that she had not died or got sick. Either way she was grateful for.

She strolled towards the dining hall slowly. A few Death Knights caught up with her along the way. Some chattered amongst themselves, which was a rare occurrence, and some stayed quiet as usual, speaking only when spoken to. No one seemed to notice her, or wanted to talk to her for the time being; and she was happy.

But she was wrong. A male tauren death knight noticed her walking quietly at one side and spoke to her. "Something bothering you, Thalian-uiel?" he asked, his bovine voice deep and rambling, but yet gentle. She shook her head in a meditating manner, "No..." She looked at him, her eyes inquisitively staring into his dark brown eyes.

"Rahallus," he said.

"No, Rahallus. I wasn't bothered by anything," she said and went back to brooding.

Rahallus did not bother her anymore after that; but he kept an eye at her every movement, her words, her conversations with others from then on.

The large dining hall was the same made as any other halls in the citadel: large, and mostly cold. It would only be warm enough if the blizzard had not come about. The blue, eerie flame does not help much, hence the sheer cold in the hall.

Afternoon meal was the same like any other days. Cold fillet, cold venison, sparkling frost caps with honey mint tea – a simple, cheerless meal like they always had any other day and she was tired of it. But she needs the strength from the food she was given, thus started as soon as the others started.

Not far off on another table Rahallus slowly bite through his fillet while watching Thalian-uiel. Watching her, studying her, trying to figure out what she was thinking. Not long after he saw her stood up and deposit her almost empty platter and mug on a nearby counter before leaving. The same thoughtful expression was stuck onto her face. He kept wondering what was bothering her and watched her leave.

As soon as she left, he followed her but another bell sounded. Thalian froze by the doors and turned around. She was clearly aggravated by the abrupt announcement on the arrival of the Lich King and thus made her way back to her seat. Rahallus saw that there was an empty chair next to hers. It belonged to another Death Knight named Ashe.

He quickly made for it and saw Ashe out of a corner of his eyes. He quickly sat down on his seat just before Ashe could sit down, which annoyed Ashe very much. "It's my seat, Rahallus. Go before I made a scene out of this!" he hissed, his teeth barred.

"Ashe, please. Just this once. I won't do it again!" Rahallus pleaded his voice tight. Ashe stared at him coldly. "_Please, Ashe_. You can seat at my place today. I promise I won't do it again!"

Ashe pulled himself off. "Fine, just for today. Hear?" he growled and strolled towards Rahallus's seat.

"What was that for?" Rahallus heard Thalian asking, looking at him surprised.

"Just thought I might want to talk to you for today. I hope you don't mind," Rahallus explained. Thalian shrugged indifferently. Talk or no talk from strangers, she was not bothered by the least of the facts. Not for the time being, at least.

Arthas strode into the dining hall, followed by Razuvious, Kal'Thuzad and Professor Putricide. The later spreading his view over the large hall, taking in every inch of information of the Death Knights that were present on it. Behind them were some scourge servants, hunched. Thalian could see that they all carried with them large sacks on their backs.

They took their place at the large, grand dining table in front of the hall. The scourge servants placed the sacks on the table, carefully not to disturb the precious contents inside. "As promised," Arthas's voice boomed over the hall. "I have brought the promised Icescale Armour and each of you will receive fair amounts. I have decided that I shall give it to you in the regular Death Knight's grey pouch, which is massively a lot and you could use it over twenty-five times. Deal?"

A murmur of agreement rippled through the hall. Thalian and Rahallus remained silent, but were not noticed. The scourge servants started to distribute the Icescale Armour like distributing festival presents. Thalian could not recall the last time she received something from someone, aside from the full Sanctified Scourgelord armour that she acquired from the Lich King when she became one of his best Death Knights. Despite being one of his best, she still used the same dining hall and the same living quarters as the other ordinary Death Knights. That she could not care less. At least she was far from him!

Razuvious and Kal'Thuzad called out the Lich King's closest and best Death Knights one by one, gathering them at the other side of their table. _Ganel, Ganesh, Renel, Vry'kyl, Orin, Orionis, Avanes..._the list goes on. Slowly, one by one, the called stood and made their way to the Lich King's table and await their Icescale Armour. Some could not wait, walked faster than the rest. Some others gave way, but only to look at the others with much disinterest. All that matters is that they get their share of the armour.

"Are you anticipating your share of your Icescale Armour?" Thalian-uiel heard Rahallus whispered to her.

"I don't see what advantage it would help me in the near future. It's just another one of the Lich King's crass weapons; they come and go like any other," she whispered back. Which was true. Every new weapon Arthas and his companions made they just come and go and each Death Knights hardly go out to combat despite the arduous trainings they underwent everyday.

"You don't know. It might help you better next time."

Before she could rebut she heard their names called – the last of the list: "...Rahallus and Thalian-uiel," Razuvious called. Thalian and Rahallus shuffled onto their feet and joined the rest of the called Knights. The Icescale Armour was distributed pouch by pouch to the Death Knights. "Once you get yours you may leave," Arthas said.

Once Thalian-uiel got hers, she quickly walked away. Then she heard hooves clomping behind her. Looking around she saw Rahallus walking close behind her. Clutching her pouch tightly she walked faster, but Rahallus on kept up with her pace much to her annoyance.

Once they are out and far from the dining hall she spun around, anger sizzling. "Why are you _following_ me?" she demanded. "_What do you want?_" her voice rising a beat louder.

"Sanera," Rahallus said.

Thalian stared at him as if he were possessed. "What?" she whispered. "What did you just call me?"

"Sanera. I...," he stopped. Tears welled his eyes.

It was then Thalian realized what he was trying to tell her. "I want to avenge Sanera. He was a great friend to me," he said, his voice starting to crack.

"Hush, Rahallus; not here please!" Thalian-uiel begged. She looked around. The last of the Death Knights were gone, and the rest were still in the dining hall collecting their new weapon. She could not just leave the huge tauren there crying thus grasped his furry arms. "Come along now Rahallus. Let's go somewhere private where we could talk, shall we?"

She attached her pouch of Icescale Armour to her belt and lead Rahallus to the Eastern Wing where she stood guard at the night before. Guards hardly patrol that area during daytime and Thalian found it less threatening and more peaceful than any other areas.

Once there she started. "What's between you and Sanera?" she asked him. It was then he burst into wild, inconsolable tears.

"He was a great friend! It was so painful to see him tortured by the Lich King so heartlessly!" he said in between sobs. Thalian-uiel, not being someone who usually consoles anyone, patted him on his arm gently. She felt sorry for both Sanera and Rahallus.

"So I wanted to know what happened to him after that since I saw that you didn't leave with the rest. I waited outside and you never did come out for a long while," he continued, sobbing. "I wanted to go back in and see what you were doing but my errands kept me from wanting to do what I really wanted. Just as I was about to leave I heard you saying death prayers and rites over him. It was then I knew he was dead, gone to a place beyond where I couldn't follow."

Thalian stood motionless for a moment. She was so stunned that she thought she had stopped breathing. Regaining herself she said, "I know he died a painful death, Rahallus. But I wanted you to know that I had sent his soul to the gods above so Arthas would not ensnare his soul in Frostmourne, lest he'd have to serve the Lich King even during death. That I would not have approved."

"How do you know that Arthas would not use his body to bring back his soul?" Rahallus snapped out his blubbering. "What did you do to his body? Tell me, please!" He grabbed her shoulders firmly, eyes wide.

"I had it consecrated, burned and buried not far from where we are," she said calmly.

"Where? Which part?" he asked and looked about him. "You don't mean to tell me that you buried him in this mountain?"

"I buried him somewhere near here, and yes I buried him in this mountain," she replied and walked further down the corridor. Not far off was a tiny notch set in the mountain. She pulled the rock out and, with a bit of help from the magic she had learned, widened the gap. Within it was a small silvery urn. "There's his grave that contains his ashes."

Thalian could see that Rahallus wanted to reach in and take the urn, but she held him back. "No!" she exclaimed. "Let the dead rest. We have done much to disrespect his final resting place. Let's not disrespect it anymore."

Before she could close the gap Rahallus said out loud, "I want to say my blessings to him before we go!"

Thalian did stop and let him go ahead. "Sanera," Rahallus started off awkwardly, but got better along the way. "I know we haven't been talking for ages but I would like to apologize for what I said and done to you that day. I know you are not just another human weakling. I know my joke was too harsh on you but I got carried away that day. And I'm sorry for punching you in your rib-cage. I knew it hurts, but please forgive me for what I have done. I'm really sorry, and may the gods above bless you!"

Thalian watched and listened to him all the while. She saw tears running down his brown cheeks, his bovine ears flapping every now and then. He would scratch his waist every now and then – even this she noticed in particular with every taurens she had met and encountered. He stood back a little. "That was all, I just don't feel easy knowing that I felt bad and wanted to apologize," he said softly. With that Thalian closed the gap and put back the rock.

"One day we will come back here and bring it to a better place. I doubt he'd like this place very much," she said.

"Who doesn't?" Rahallus agreed.

Thalian turned away, resuming her brooding self and fingering her pouches. Rahallus watched her go, still not satisfied from what he had gotten from her. He knew he wanted revenge on Arthas, for Sanera and for everyone else who had suffered under the tyranny of the Lich Kings. Thalian-uiel looked like a potential collaborator although her main pledge came under the Alliance Faction. That brought matters to an all new level of complication. But it was his only chance; and he knew it very well. If he gave up on this chance now there would never be another one like this again.

He ran after her, held her arms tightly not wanting to let her go. "Wait, Thalian. Please listen to me once more before you go any further," he pleaded.

She looked over her shoulders at him, her face clearly annoyed. "What?" she spat out, and the tone of her voice hurts the tauren.

"Just listen to me this one more time, I promise!" he said. "You know I wanted to avenge Sanera so I thought you were a potential ally..."

She pushed his arms away. "Yes...meet me tonight here. Same place. Just bring what you need – your armour, your weapons, and food rations, anything you need," she instructed and left.

Rahallus looked at her, surprised and taken aback. They were going to escape this place? How? He thought exasperated. There were no other possible escape routes in Icecrown aside from using flying mounts – something that requires a lot of stealth to carry out. Unless...she has a plan in mind already? He wondered on and on, somehow baffled.

Walking back to his living quarters he hoped for the best, and also hoped that Thalian-uiel was not pulling his legs.


End file.
